


Broken Bottles and Scattered Paints

by FloralPrintProuvaire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, Canonical Character Death, M/M, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-08
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralPrintProuvaire/pseuds/FloralPrintProuvaire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire wishes he could quit drinking almost as much as he wishes he could quit feeling, but he needs the first to get him through the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Bottles and Scattered Paints

It really is no surprise that Grantaire fell for Enjolras as suddenly as he did, and with his whole heart. The feeling isn't entirely foreign, there was a time when he put his heart into everything he did. Every time he began a new painting he conveyed passion with every brush stroke. 

Now he drowns his emotions in whiskey and tries to push the thoughts from his mind but they just won't go away, so he has another drink. He knows he's a bit hopeless as of late. He doesn't dwell on it. 

Drinking was a social habit until he realized that Enjolras was too devoted to his cause to ever be devoted to another human. But he doesn't blame him for the addiction.

He picks up an empty bottle and holds it to the light, turns it a bit to get the sun to hit it just right. Maybe Enjolras is right, maybe he is a useless drunkard. It does seems to be a recurring theme lately, and he can't even remember the last time he picked up a paintbrush. He lets the bottle fall from his hand. It shatters, and bits of glass skitter across the floor. He watches them go but makes no move to pick them up. He wishes he could quit drinking almost as much as he wishes he could quit feeling, but he needs the first to get him through the other.

A knock at the door, followed by Jehan's voice. 

“Are you coming to the meeting or not?”

“Not,” he answers. For a moment he almost believes himself, but he stands anyway. Jehan waits. He always does. 

He notices the glass on the floor, but doesn't ask. 

Grantaire sits through another meeting, mostly remaining quiet but not being able to resist making a sarcastic comment every now and then just to gain some attention from Enjolras. A glare is better than being ignored. In those moments, Grantaire becomes inspired. 

Upon returning home, he paints. It's been too long, and the brush is unfamiliar in his hand. At first there's just red – quick strokes not meant to be anything but a way to relieve some of the frustration. When he steps back and looks though, he sees Enjolras in the canvas. Grantaire is enraged, can he do nothing without the man? He tears the page in half.

There's another bottle open within minutes, and he sits with his head in his hands.

Another knock at his door

“I'm not going anywhere else, Jehan,” he calls out.

“It's Enjolras.” 

He wonders how much he's had to drink already today, but opens the door just in case. Enjolras is in fact there, and pushes past him into his apartment. 

Enjolras does ask about the broken pieces.

“Broke a bottle,” is the matter-of-fact answer he receives. Enjolras raises an eyebrow, but doesn't press the matter further. 

“Anyways, I came by to ask you about what you said at the meeting today.”

And fuck if Grantaire remembers what he said at the meeting, he can't even remember what he was doing five minutes ago. He goes to the meetings for one reason only, and he doesn't have to remember that – the problem is that he doesn't know how to forget. 

“What did I say?” 

“Christ, Grantaire, how much have you had today already?” 

He grins, and pretends to count on his fingers. When he moves to his second hand, Enjolras becomes exasperated. 

“You said that if we were going to die for a cause, we should die for a cause we believe in. If that's true – if that's your belief – why do you stay?” 

Grantaire doesn't know what to say, so he says nothing. He wanders back over to his chair and his bottle. Enjolras follows, wanting an answer. 

“Have you always been this dependent on your alcohol? Do you even function without it? There has to be something you believe in, some sort of cause. A hobby, even.” 

It's then that he notices the easel and the scattered paints. 

“You paint?” he asks softly. He makes his way to the corner to inspect the artwork, but finds nothing but the two torn halves. He pieces them together, but does not see himself. “This looked good to me...” 

It's Grantaire's turn to be angry, the alcohol only fueling the fire. 

“You don't see it... you never see it. God, Enjolras, you will never fucking see anything!” 

Grantaire pushes him backwards and places his hands on the wall on either side of Enjolras's head, pinning him there. He's well aware of his level of intoxication and for a split second he thinks he'll regret this later, but the anger wins out.

“Do you want to know the reason I'm always drinking? The reason I don't paint anymore? The reason I even go to your meetings?” 

Enjolras nods slowly, not breaking eye contact. 

“You.” 

There are a few moments with nothing but staring and heavy breathing, and then he turns away, returning to his chair once more. Enjolras stays leaning against the wall.

“I don't understand.” 

“Of course you don't, because your heart is devoted to your beloved Patria. You are so involved in your cause that you fail to see the little things.” 

“If you hate me so much, if I've caused you to drink yourself mad and turned you away from your artwork, then why don't you just stop coming? I will understand. Not everyone is willing to die for the revolution.” 

Grantaire laughs a hollow laugh and returns to where Enjolras stands.

“You still don't understand. I am not willing to die for your cause, but I am willing to die for you.” 

Grantaire presses his lips to Enjolras's in a forceful kiss. Enjolras is at first too shocked to respond, then he places his hands squarely on Grantaire's chest and shoves him away hard.

They stare at each other in a stunned silence.

“I understand now,” Enjolras says quietly. “ Grantaire, I don't... I can't...”

Grantaire laughs again, and it's anything but happy.

“I know. France, the revolution... you are not equipped with emotions other than an intense longing for freedom and justice.” Enjolras nods. 

“I wish... It would have been nice if things had been different.”

Grantaire looks away.

“I'll stop ruining your meetings. I know where you stand, and now you know the same of me.” He opens the door, signaling that Enjolras should go.

Enjolras gives him as he goes that could almost be sadness or regret, but Grantaire knows better.

Tonight he will paint – red again, and again it becomes Enjolras. This time he won't tear it up. He leaves it on his easel, the only version of his Apollo that he can keep. 

He will keep his word; he won't attend any more meetings. Truth be told, he won't miss them. He will miss Enjolras, but he knows that he will see him again. 

When the time comes, he will keep his word. He will die for the man who put a hold on his feelings, and then made him feel more than he ever had in his life. The man who makes him want to throw out every canvas he owns but also inspires him with every breath he takes. The man who drove him to drink himself into fits, but also sobers him with merely his presence. 

The day will come when he will find Enjolras cornered by the soldiers of the very country he loves so much. Although he never believed in the cause, it breaks his heart to see Enjolras's true love turn on him the way it did. He knows he would never have. 

But true to his word, he will die for Enjolras. It is something he's known he would do since they day they met, and whether Enjolras believed him before is irrelevant, because he believes him now. He is allowed to grasp his hand before the bullets rain down on them. 

Just as they promised each other, Enjolras dies for the revolution and Grantaire dies for Enjolras.


End file.
